


Fallen Idols

by LadyOpabinia



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Drabble, Post-Third Cochlea Raid And Rushima Landing Operation Arc (Tokyo Ghoul: re), Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOpabinia/pseuds/LadyOpabinia
Summary: Akira visits her father's grave.God, our heavenly FatherOh God, and my fatherWho's also in HeavenMay the lightOf this flickering candleIlluminate the night the wayYour spirit illuminates my soul





	Fallen Idols

 

She used to visit every week - usually on Wednesdays, just after work. She would replace wilting flowers with new, fresh ones. And as she placed flowers upon stone,  she would partake in a bittersweet one-sided exchange: sharing news and boasting of the occasional promotion until the last of the sun’s light caught her hair. Then she bid him goodnight. 

 

But the events that took place at Rushima shattered an immaculate routine and shattered the pride she had taken in it. Consequently, Rushima shattered her - Now she is a diamond become glass. 

 

If she can salvage but one piece from the shards that lie scattered at her feet -  she prays that it be _ this. _

 

Little has changed since the last time she was here. As always, the faint aroma of incense dances on the wind. Colourful floral arrangements continue to correspond with seasonal availability. New markers have taken their place in a forest of the dead, and their addition is barely noticeable since overarching order is always the same, always timeless… 

 

Keeping her strides light and her head held high, she carries herself with the same quiet dignity that had once earned her an icy reputation. Self-assurance hangs by a thread, and she cannot help but wonder if she has any right to be here. 

 

If she has any right to face him.   
  


**_MADO KUREO_ **

 

The epitaph gleams in the moonlight.

 

‘Mad Mado’ and ‘Quinque Maniac’ were what they called him at the CCG. Though those investigators mocked him in life, they mourned his death and let hypocrisy spill from their lips with shallow condolences. She knows better. For she knew him as the man who taught himself how to braid her hair so that he could do so until she was old enough to do it herself. She knew him as the man who kept every picture that she drew him, despite her (many) protests. More importantly, she knew him as her father. 

“Hi, Dad… I didn’t forget about you. But it’s been difficult...I’m technically a fugitive now. You probably already knew that; you always had a knack for knowing when I was hiding something. ”

 

Her efforts to recapture the lighthearted intimacy of simpler times are to no avail; she might as well be collecting rainwater in a sieve. Confidence wavers, and she cannot help but laugh at the bitter irony of it all.

 

Her empty laugh meets only silence.

 

She knows nothing of Heaven, Hell, or of any other afterlife. Thus far, she has flourished under a secular roof. Unfounded spiritual beliefs hold no sway over she who learned to rely upon logic and reason as Gospel truth. And yet, reliable and rational foundations buckled beneath her and left her faithless, grasping at nothing. In a moment of weakness, she looks to the skies, though she is uncertain of what she is looking for. Her search is futile. The stars are veiled, and the eyes of her father are hidden among rolling clouds. But maybe he can somehow hear her… maybe he can find her voice in the stillness of the night… maybe he can find it in his heart to forgive her transgressions.

 

“I’m sorry, Dad… I had no other choice. Please, try to understand… ”

 

In her opinion, regret is a useless emotion. There is much that can be learned from trial and error, but to dwell on old mistakes and to live in the past only imparts misery. As useless as regret may be, she harbours many of her own. Her actions at Rushima…  are not among them. 

 

Of course, much of her memory surrounding that day is lost to both shock and injury. However, the remaining fragments, once assembled, form a clear picture in her mind. Saving Seidou Takizawa was anything but a conscious decision on her part. Her body had dived forward and had become a shield faster than her brain could process the situation. She had abandoned rational gods and succumbed to the pull of the heart, impulse violently possessing her. She could not take it back… even if she so desired. 

 

_ She does not want to take it back.  _

 

Lack of remorse is not enough to free her from internal consequence. A different breed of guilt weighs her down like a ball and chain.

 

She can attest to having been a burden to her father: with her selfish existence, she held him back from advancing in his career and from gaining well-deserved recognition amongst his comrades. He sacrificed his entire livelihood for her own, and  _ this _ is how she repays him -    
  
By spitting on his memory and by spitting on that of her mother.

 

“I did what I judged to be right. You always taught me to trust my intuition…”

 

She speaks with firm conviction although she keeps none for herself. Instead, conviction crumbles and turns to dust as she hesitates to admit a new treachery.

 

“I’m scared, Daddy...”

 

Society established a simple dichotomy as law: GOOD/EVIL; HUMAN/GHOUL. The dichotomy was one she had followed blindly, one that her father had taught her. Never once did she feel compelled to question her father’s will. His legacy was her duty.

 

It all comes down to Rushima.

 

Having seen the worst and the best qualities of both kind, her life’s investigative purpose was torn asunder. Dichotomy falls upon its own sword. And so it bleeds when she sees the humankind’s heroes abandon humanity in their efforts to preserve their race. It bleeds when she looks into the crimson eye of the ‘enemy’, and realizes both his capacity for compassion, as well as that of cruelty.

 

_ Just what is it that she was fighting for? _

 

Lost clarity leaves her stumbling in the dark, with no sense of where to go. The world feels so much bigger than it once did…  There is no place for her anymore.

 

“Why did you leave me all alone…?”

 

And just like that, the burden of lifelong loneliness crushes her. 

 

These walls - the walls that hold her up and make her strong… collapse; she is bones exposed, and a heart laid bare.

 

Tears stream down her face, forming wet trails that stain cheeks red. Her chest heaves with  sobs that echo in the silence. She stands before her father’s grave, a grown woman… and yet, she feels smaller than she ever did as a child. Perhaps, having lived her life under her father’s thumb, she never quite stopped being a child.

 

Eventually, her tears run dry. Eventually charcoal skies dissipate, welcoming the golden dawn: the vibrancy of the flowers is restored, the first of the sun’s light catches in her hair, and she readies herself to take her leave.

 

“Goodnight-” comes her habituated goodbye. The morning sun already glares, and she reprimands herself for her mistake. “Goodbye.” she amends. 

 

Her voice is hoarse; exhaustion cracks her composure and drops the head once held high. She cannot tell if she feels better or worse. 

 

Nothing had really changed since the last time she was here. 

 

As always, the dead do not stir from their eternal rest, and her father, who rests among them, is no exception - or so she hopes. Nowadays even the certainty of death comes into question.  

 

And if, somehow, he had heard her prayers: he gives no sign that he accepted nor forgave.

 

For all she knows, he remains indifferent. Maybe she should be indifferent too. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble heavily inspired by Barbara Streisand's "Papa Can You Hear Me". The song's lyrics and mood seem very appropriate for Akira's mindset at this point in canon. 
> 
> This is my first published work, so any comments or criticism would be appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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